


There's So Much to Learn About You

by katsudonfemmefatale



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge (Victuuri) [15]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: 30 Day NSFW Challenge, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blow Jobs, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 17:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9914300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsudonfemmefatale/pseuds/katsudonfemmefatale
Summary: Viktor has just shown up in Hasetsu to be Yuuri's coach, and is attempting to settle in for his first night. He just wants to get to know his student, but will Yuuri let him?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted to get this on here real quick for you guys, so the formatting is awful. I PROMISE I will come back and reformat in the morning but I'm exhausted right now!
> 
> Love you all <3
> 
> This is the 'on the floor' prompt for the 30 Day NSFW Challenge.

Yuuri felt the sweat began to trickle down the side of his face as the last of the heavy boxes thumped down onto the tatami in front of him.  
Wow, I really am getting unfit, he thought.  
He tried to catch his breath as Viktor stretched in front of him, seemingly oblivious and entirely unhelpful.

“Wow! What a classic, tiny room. Is there a sofa?”

A sofa?! Was this Viktor’s first time in a ryokan? Yuuri wouldn’t have been surprised if he had one broken up and packed up into one of these boxes somewhere, for all the stuff he’d brought with him. Why exactly had he brought so many boxes, anyway?

“No…”

Then again, Viktor was a living legend. He probably lived in a plush flat somewhere in St Petersburg. He had never done any home photoshoots or anything so Yuuri hadn’t actually seen it, but having mentioned a flat in interviews, Yuuri had built up a picture in his head of what it must have looked like. He wondered what Viktor must think of his old childhood home.

“I’m sorry it’s so small. We only had an unused banquet room available.”

Viktor turned to him now, flashing him an outrageous wink.

“You look anxious.”

How could he not be? Viktor was stood in the room just down from his, wearing the Inn’s robes, having just told him he was going to be his coach and stay here in Japan, surrounded by boxes of stuff, while his dog scratched at the tatami behind him.

“You can pay the coaching fee after you achieve success! I’ll bill you later.”

Having not been what Yuuri was thinking about at all, he struggled to think what to say. A coaching fee?! He hadn’t even asked Viktor to come here!  
Yuuri remained kneeling on the floor, a heavy blush spread across his face at the fact that Viktor had inadvertently just given him something else to feel anxious about… something which he hadn’t even thought of.

“Th-thank you.” He stammered.

Viktor knelt down in front of him, equalling their height. Yuuri was pretty sure his jaw was hanging open just from the pure beauty of being anywhere near Viktor. He was still his idol, still a God in his eyes, and he was just about getting used to being several feet away from him… but being this close, with Viktor staring straight into his eyes, was almost more than he could bear.

“Yuuri, tell me everything about you.”

Viktor’s hand came up toward Yuuri’s face, and suddenly there were digits resting gently under his chin. Yuuri’s body was on fire, and it was all he could do not to turn his cheek into them, to drown in Viktor’s touch.

“What kind of rink do you skate at What’s in this City? Is there a girl you like?”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat.  
Viktor’s hand trailed down his arm and took his hand, his right taking place under his chin. They were mere inches apart now, and Viktor’s robe was hanging open, exposing his chest. Somehow this was more enticing to Yuuri than seeing him completely naked in the hot spring earlier.

“Before we start practising, let’s build some trust in our relationship.”

Yuuri couldn’t stand it anymore. Before he knew what he was doing, he was scooting backwards on his feet, his back hitting the wall of the hallway as Viktor remained kneeling, mouth agape.

“What? Why are you running away?”  
“Uh, no reason…”

His face twitched, and he suddenly realised that running away was probably far more telling of his feelings than anything else he could have done. He just couldn’t bear to be so close to him. 

 

Yuuri stood with his back to his bedroom door, weight braced against it. The wood vibrated under him at the banging on the door.

“Yuri, let’s sleep together. As your coach, there’s so much I need to learn about you.”

How could he say something like that? And so casually?   
Clearly Viktor had not yet accustomed himself to life in Japan. Did he not know how mortifying it would be for Yuuri if someone else heard that? 

“No!”

It wasn’t that Yuuri didn’t like what Viktor was suggesting, but right now there was only a thin piece of wood between the Viktor Nikiforov, and about 30 posters of himself. There was no way Yuuri would be letting him in this room.

“Please, Yuuri… I just need someone to talk to.”

Yuuri felt his face soften, even though there was nobody there to see it. From the other side of the door, Viktor had suddenly sounded so lost, so vulnerable. And then Yuuri realised.  
Here was a man, thousands of miles away from home with only his dog as a companion, in a different environment, a different climate, a different culture. In seeing Viktor as a God, Yuuri had also seen him as unshakeable. Maybe, beneath all the bravado, Viktor was as human as the rest of us.  
He turned and opened his door a crack, sliding out to hide any view Viktor may have had of the posters adorning his walls.

“I’ll come help you set up your futon.”

Viktor’s eyes sparkled as his mouth formed into an enormous heart-shaped grin, and they padded down the corridor together to the next room.  
As soon as Yuuri was through the doors, he went to setting up the futon immediately… something he could do in his sleep after living – and sometimes working – in a ryokan his entire life. There wasn’t much space, but he managed to work a futon in between the numerous boxes, and have it looking mostly presentable. But looking down at it once finished, he felt pathetic. How was Viktor meant to sleep here?

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologising for?”

“That you have to sleep on this.”

“Yuuri!!”

Viktor had thrown his arms over his shoulders as they looked down at the perfectly folded sheets on the floor.

“It’s perfect! I’ve always wanted to sleep on a futon in a traditional inn! It’s a dream come true!”

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he believed him. It was something he and his family had heard several times from foreign customers of course, but he still couldn’t extricate himself from the feeling that Viktor would have preferred something more luxurious.  
He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a few moments to realise that Viktor had his arms wrapped around him. Yuuri shrugged them off as he took a few steps backward, his hand going up to scratch the back of his head as he averted his gaze awkwardly.

“So… eh… what did you want to talk to me about?”

Viktor sat down, cross-legged, on the sheets and gestured for Yuuri to follow suit.  
He did, but maintained a distance of a few feet. A distance, which Viktor closed as soon as Yuuri was seated.

“First of all, I want to know why you’re being so coy around me.”

“Eh? I’m always like this.”

Was he sweating?  
Why did Viktor want to know that anyway? And was he really acting so strangely?

“I’m not sure that’s true. Would you like to know why I’m here?”

This was interesting, and if Yuuri had been a dog he was sure his ears would have pricked up at that very moment.  
Viktor Nikiforov had travelled half way around the world to be here, with Yuuri. Of course he wanted to know why he was here! But Yuuri also didn’t want to seem too invested, too eager. He couldn’t flail at his idols feet, telling him he’d been in love with him for years, or he would get on the first plane back to Russia.  
Instead, he nodded, still averting Viktor’s gaze.

“I came because of that video. Because of the way you skate, like the music is already inside of you and you are waiting to give it life. I came because of all the ways you copied me so effortlessly, how beautiful your movements were. But most of all, I came because the man I saw in that video is not the man I saw at the Grand Prix.”

Yuuri looked up, his eyes finally locking with Viktor’s.

“You have so much potential, Yuuri. Why can’t you release it?”

Don’t cry. Definitely don’t cry.   
He looked down at his lap once more.

“I guess… because I lack confidence.”

“That’s right. I see such a beautiful dancer in you, an enchanting skater who can move the world, who is capable of so much… I know you have another side to you that is just waiting to be released, and I want to see it. But you need somebody who can bring that out. That’s why I want to be your coach… that’s why I’m here.”

His body betrayed him, teardrops spilling over the lower lids of his eyes and falling to his lap.  
He remained silent, not sure whether to try to apologise to Viktor again, when all he really wanted to do was thank him. He had an urge to tell him everything; that he had been his biggest fan for over a decade; that it wasn’t just Stammi Vicino… that he had memorised and skated every one of his performances. In confusion of his emotions, he didn’t say anything.

“Yuuri, don’t cry. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Ie, it’s fine.”

Yuuri painted his face with an unconvincing smile now, waving it off with his hand emphatically, as if to suggest it was nothing, it happened all the time.  
(In fact, that part was true.)  
But as he looked down, something crashed against his face, brushing softly on his lips and hair softly falling on his cheekbones. By the time he realised Viktor had kissed him, he had pulled away again, hand in front of his mouth. This time, it was Viktor’s turn to be embarrassed.

“I’m so sorry, Yuuri! I’m not good with people crying in front of me, I just…”

His eyes were darting around, and Viktor looked vulnerable, questioning what he had just allowed himself to do. And despite how upset the man he so unspoken and desperately loved looked, Yuuri was happy.  
He was human.  
He was fallible.  
And before Yuuri questioned it, he kissed him back.

Viktor’s eyes widened in shock, but quickly fluttered closed. Yuuri had been intending to pull back after a moment, but as he attempted to, Viktor’s hand clasped his cheek as if to suggest that he was going nowhere, and deepened the kiss.  
Yuuri was surprised at how he allowed himself to fall into Viktor’s arms, how he melted at his touch. Barely half an hour ago he was running away from Viktor taking his hand, and now he had actually initiated such intimate contact between them. Now he had started something, he knew that whatever was blooming between the two men could never go back to how it was, or whatever alternate path it might have taken.  
Viktor Nikiforov was here: he was in Japan, he was in his house, he was in his arms… and Yuuri didn’t intend to let him go for whatever little time they had together. He was going to make the most of it, even if it meant having his idol never speak to him again after.

He fell back onto the tatami as Viktor moved himself on top of him, kissing him more aggressively. Yuuri was struggling to contain his excitement now, every fantasy he had ever had coming true. He opened his mouth – just a little – and Viktor’s tongue invaded it quickly, rolling his tongue over Yuuri’s in deliciously tempting movements.  
Suddenly, Viktor pulled back, leaving Yuuri’s neck straining upwards for more contact, confused at the loss of it.

“Yuuri… is this okay?”

He was adorable. So much more generous and loving than Yuuri could ever have given him credit for in his interviews. How could he care this much for a dime-a-dozen figure skater he barely knew? No, don’t question it. Yuuri huffed out a small laugh.

“Oh, it’s more than okay…”

And with that, he pulled Viktor down on top of him, his full weight pushing down into his slightly-more-padded-than-usual body.  
But even through the padding, even through his jeans and t-shirt and jumper and just layers of clothing in general, he could feel a certain part of Viktor’s body, seemingly desperate to be paid attention to.  
Yuuri had been nervous this whole day. A shaking wreck whenever he spoke to Viktor. Shock and adrenaline and happiness and fright were working all at once, and Viktor had been so gorgeous (and naked) and perfect, that Yuuri probably gave off the attitude of a frightened little boy. And certainly, that made up a very big portion of Yuuri Katsuki’s personality.

But Viktor had been right. There was another side to Yuuri. One that only one other had ever gotten to see.

He slid his hands down the front of the elastic waistband of the thin, green inn robes, taking Viktor’s length in hand. He was hard (so hard) and thick; averagely sized but perfectly formed, Yuuri noted. He stroked deftly as Viktor moaned into him.

“Okay?” Yuuri asked.  
“More than okay”, Viktor replied, copying him. “So forward, Yuuri…”

His voice was a whispered moan as Yuuri’s thumb worked its way up his glans and over the head, pulling ever so gently at the slit. Oh, Viktor had no idea, did he?  
Yuuri worked his left hand into the bottoms and found Viktor’s balls, immediately rolling them in his palm, his index brushing the base of them, lightly and teasingly. In his right, he felt precum soak his thumb. Oh, so he liked that?  
Yuuri nibbled on Viktor’s lower lip, eliciting a thrust into his hand. Yuuri chuckled in response, then removed both hands temporarily to gesture Viktor to turn onto his back on the floor. He complied, wordlessly.

Viktor was now beneath him on the tatami, looking utterly debauched as Yuuri straddled him. The knot of the top of the robes had come undone, exposing his perfect, muscular, porcelain chest, and precum was soaking through his bottoms as his cock strained against the fabric. Yuuri took a moment, just to look, then removed his glasses, throwing them toward the futon carelessly.

“Yuuri Katsuki, I had no idea you could be like this.”

Yuuri was moving down now, settling down between Viktor’s legs and hooking index fingers into the waistband of the green bottoms.

“Yes you did. I’m just showing it to you, like you asked.”

Yuuri’s tone was playfully low, his words thick and heavy, running like treacle through his mouth. Then, he dipped his head down and mouthed at Viktor’s hardness, hot breath causing his dick to twitch even further in anticipation.  
Yuuri pulled, removing Viktor’s trousers easily and causing his penis to free with a bob.  
It looked exactly as expected. Flushed a light pink at the head, the rest of his shaft only a slightly deeper shade of pale than the rest of his body. Pale hairs curled around the base and his balls, and Yuuri could see golden strands of blond in the thick patch of hair above it, just before the trail leading to his naval.  
All in all, Viktor looked delicious. And Yuuri couldn’t wait.  
Because there was one thing… just one thing in this whole world he was better at than skating.

“Oh GOD!!!”

Viktor cried out, and Yuuri knew it was way louder than he had intended.   
He also knew his vision was probably whiting out, and he would be having trouble focusing on anything… probably thinking he was at the peak of an orgasm, when in fact he hadn’t even began.  
Because Yuuri had just, without warning, without preparation, and extremely quickly, swallowed Viktor into his throat.  
He wasn’t moving. He stayed still, allowing Viktor to process. And when Viktor’s head finally lay back down (he had jolted up) and his stomach muscles released, Yuuri slid off his length… slowly… allowing his tongue to taste the entire underside of Viktor’s shaft as he did so. He increased his suction right as his head reached the opening of his mouth, once again eliciting a loud moan from the Russian below him, then allowed it to fall out with a pop.  
He looked up. Viktor was all but hyperventilating, staring blankly at the ceiling, chest rising and falling heavily as sweat beaded at the gaps in his silver fringe. Yuuri had done well.

After a moment of staring, allowing Viktor to almost recover but not lose the edge, Yuuri dove back down and noisily lapped at his cock. He went between licking the shaft, sucking the head, deep-throating him, and flicking his tongue on his frenulum.  
Viktor particularly seemed to like the latter, and so Yuuri paid attention, hitting that spot more often than the others.  
Viktor was getting so close now. He could feel it in the way his ass muscles clenched underneath him, hear it in the hitch in his breathing, see it in the painful hardness of his cock.

“Stand”, Yuuri demanded.

Viktor complied silently but slowly as Yuuri moved out of the way.  
As soon as he was on his feet, Yuuri knelt in front of him and looked up, allowing Viktor to look down at the sight of his cock, mere millimetres from Yuuri’s face. He saw a shiver run down his spine.  
Then Yuuri set to work, undoing him. His right hand clasped around the base of his shaft tightly, his left massaging his balls, and he tried to maintain eye contact with Victor as he swirled his tongue around the head of his dick. Viktor was inadvertently thrusting now - to be expected - and as he began to moan, Yuuri deep-throated him again.  
Viktor began to come with a cry, but Yuuri moved his dick out of his throat, resting the head on the flat of his tongue as he pumped Viktor’s shaft with his hand. Viktor looked down at Yuuri, but as Yuuri’s eyes locked onto Viktor’s, Viktor’s gaze was staring solely and intently on the white streams of come that spurted into the younger skater’s mouth.  
When he was done, Yuuri wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, making sure he had every last drop, then opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue to show Viktor, proudly.

“Fuck, Yuuri.” 

Viktor said. Then Yuuri swallowed.

Maybe the Japanese skater really could surprise him, even more than he expected.  
And that night, Viktor got to know Yuuri deeper than he had ever intended to when he knocked on his door that evening.


End file.
